


One-Shots from a Galaxy Far, Far Away

by marvelousfangirl01



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fantasizing, Fluff, Light Angst, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Rose Tico Deserved Better, SO MUCH FLUFF, Teen Angst, oneshots, pre vizsla is a simp, rose tico needs some love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelousfangirl01/pseuds/marvelousfangirl01
Summary: Snippets in the lives of many characters across the Star Wars timeline.
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze/Pre Viszla, Finn/Rose Tico, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Plo Koon/Shaak Ti, Poe Dameron/Finn, Satine Kryze/Pre Viszla
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Introduction / Table of Contents

##### Welcome to “One-Shots from a Galaxy Far, Far Away”!

These are short stories that I am writing for fun, and I recently joined AO3 to experiment with sharing my work. These stories are not connected in any way; they simply serve as brief one-shots between some of my favorite pairings. Many of them are focused on canon pairings within the Star Wars universe... however, there will be some non-canon pairings here as well. :)

\---

Below are summaries of each one-shot so you can easily navigate:

 ** _"Pillows":_** Han/Leia; Takes place post-ROTJ and shortly after the formation of the New Republic. Leia comes home after a long day at work, to find Han with a surprise for her. Cuddling ensues.

 ** _"More Than Just a Number":_** Plo Koon/Shaak Ti; Leading up to the events of CW Season 6. Little bit of fluff, little bit of angst. Mostly, these two are just cute clone parents.

 ** _"Floating":_** Satine/Obi-Wan; The Force floats through all living beings. Obi-Wan finds that "floating" is a good way to describe how he's feeling towards a certain Duchess.

 ** _"Roses Fall, but the Thorn Remains":_** Finn/Poe, with some one-sided Rose/Finn. TW for panic attacks and trauma. Taking place after TLJ, Rose is dealing with her confusing feelings for Finn and the loss of her sister. Finn is worried about his friendship with Rose. And Poe is there for both of them through it all.

 _ **"Devil's Heat":**_ Bo-Katan Kryze/Pre Vizsla. Pre is enchanted by the young Bo-Katan Kryze. During some much-needed alone time, he ponders his attraction to her.


	2. Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han/Leia; Takes place post-ROTJ and shortly after the formation of the New Republic. Leia comes home after a long day at work, to find Han with a surprise for her. Cuddling ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe I know the Han/Leia dynamic isn’t exactly what most people would call “wholesome”... but I like to think that their marriage resulted in more soft intimacy like this <3 I’m not usually a big fluff writer, but one of my goals for this series is to get out of my comfort zone when it comes to writing fic!

Leia Organa was exhausted.

As she trudged down the dimly lit hallway to her and Han’s apartment, she could literally feel her feet throbbing through her heeled shoes. Her head pounded. Her stomach rumbled, starved for the attention only food could give it. 

She had been prepared for the logistics of being a senator—writing and giving speeches, negotiating, maintaining a good public image—but _kriff_ , she wished her training had prepared her for the stress that came with the job. Leia had stood in the senate chamber for at least two hours that morning as they discussed new hyperspace lanes; then she had gone back to her office to draft her next speech. She had taken a very short lunch break with some of her colleagues. Then it was back to the chamber for the remaining evening session, which ran late.

As Leia unlocked the door into her home, she was expecting the lights to be off, and to find her husband Han asleep. He usually waited for her to return, but at this hour, she wouldn’t blame him if he decided to hit the hay.

However, the lights in the living room were dimly lit, giving a golden glow to the rest of the apartment. _What could he possibly be doing this late at night? _Leia thought, but then sighed, far too beat for musing about her husband’s activities. She dropped her bag on the table and rubbed her tired eyes.__

____

Leia slipped off her shoes and plodded into the kitchen. Standing on her toes, she opened the cabinet to get a cup for some tea. She wanted to sleep, she needed to sleep, but she also needed to get ahead on the briefings for next week’s session. They were lengthy and diffuse and a lot of it was very biased, in Leia’s opinion. If she started now and stayed focused, she could read half of the briefings now and leave the other half for tomorrow… but tomorrow she also had a private meeting and lunch with Mon Mothma, which would undoubtedly take most of the day… 

____

Leia felt a warm, familiar Force signature weaving its way into hers—almost as warm and familiar as the person whom the signature belonged to. She didn’t even have to turn around to know who was standing behind her—

____

“Han.”

____

“Dammit, Leia, I was gonna surprise you.” Han said, chuckling. As Leia turned around, her husband smiled wide. His hands held a cup of tea, and Leia realized with a tired smile that he had brewed it for her. Leia gratefully took the mug, and as she sipped, noticed it was the perfect temperature—not too hot, not too cold. The senator savored the warm drink.

____

“Honestly, I’m not really in the mood for surprises.” Leia murmured before she took another sip. She studied Han—rumpled shirt, messy hair, cheeky grin. She had missed him today, more than she had realized. 

____

She leaned against the counter. When Han’s brow knitted in concern, Leia added, “It’s been a busy day. I’m not feeling great”

____

Han nodded, his playfulness dying away as he became serious. “I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me though,” Han reached out and tucked her under his arm. As he did so, Leia realized just how exhausted she really was—she felt like she was going to drift away the second she settled against him.

____

“Is there anything I can do about it?”

____

Leia sighed. “Unless you can get Mon to shut up about tax evasion, no.” Leia wrinkled her nose. Tax evasion would definitely be on the agenda for tomorrow. 

____

“All right,” Han shook his head with unusual certainty, then pulled her out from under his arm. “You’ve had a rough day. Why don’t you go take a shower, change into some comfy clothes, then meet me out on the balcony.”

____

Leia raised an eyebrow, confused, but he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward their room. 

____

“Nerfherder, what’s up your sleeve this time?”

____

“You’ll see.” Han said with a smirk, then disappeared outside. 

____

Leia, amused at her husband’s affection, quietly entered their bedroom to shower and dress. 

____

The room was cozy and neat, something Leia had taken great care to ensure. The only large pieces of furniture were the bed and dresser; but that was because they’d only been living here for a month. After living on the _Falcon_ for the first four months of their marriage, Leia had decided it was time to settle somewhere more convenient to her duties in the Senate.

____

After a warm shower—taking care not to get her hair wet, because then she would have to wash it, which took longer than she had the patience for—Leia slipped into her velvet nightdress. She released her dark hair from its array of braids atop her head, allowing it to fall free.

____

She picked up her cup of tea again and sipped it as she walked out to the balcony. 

____

She stopped, initially confused by what she saw.

____

The balcony itself was normally fairly empty, save for the small swinging chair Leia liked to sit in if she had a free moment. But now there were blankets and pillows everywhere, more than she thought they owned, covering the smooth tile of the floor. It looked like an explosion of the soft fabrics, one that would take time to clean up. 

____

But Leia found herself disregarding the mess and taking the scene for what it was: a blessing. In the silver light of the Chandrila moon, Leia could see the path to her husband sitting at the center of it all.

____

“Okay, this was not what I had in mind,” Leia began to smile as she seated herself on a quilt next to Han. “I’m truly at a loss for words.”

____

“You’re drained.” Han said, putting an arm around her. “I might not have those Force powers of yours, but any decent being would be able to tell that you’re not yourself.” 

____

Leia didn’t reply, just let him do his magic. Han rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. “And hey, let someone else take care of you for a little while. You deserve it.” 

____

Leia relished in the way he kissed her hair with such tenderness. She closed her eyes. “You are truly something else.” 

____

They sat in the beautiful silence together—for how long, Leia wasn’t sure. She drifted in and out of a sleepy haze, until she finally laid back on the blankets and curled up in a sleeping position. Han followed, wrapping an arm around her waist. For just this once, it seemed like there was nothing to worry about… no wars, no debates, no drawn-out speeches. 

____

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Leia whispered, barely moving her lips.

____

“Yeah, I’d say I have a pretty good idea.” She could hear the smugness in his voice. She reached out for one of the smaller pillows and thumped Han with it. Han cried out jokingly, to which they both chuckled. 

____

“I love you.” He kissed her neck then, and Leia smiled as she felt herself drifting off again.

____

“I know.”

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this! Kudos or comments are always appreciated. <33


	3. More Than Just a Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plo Koon/Shaak Ti; Leading up to the events of CW Season 6. Little bit of fluff, little bit of angst. Mostly, these two are just cute clone parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot was requested by whoisthatalex on Tumblr!
> 
> I had a ridiculously fun time exploring these characters a bit more! Both of these Jedi are severely underrated and I'm so glad I was introduced to this pairing. <33 One of my favorite parts to write was Shaak teaching the clones while Plo looks on lovingly ahhh
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’ve missed you, Plo.”

Shaak Ti’s words were muffled against Plo Koon’s shoulder. She reached around his waist to hold him tightly.

“I’ve missed you too.” Plo whispered back, filled with an impossible amount of warmth as the Togruta embraced him. His hand came to rest on the small of her back, beneath her montrals, in an effort to draw her closer to him. 

At any other point, the cloning facility’s gray hallways would have been bustling with its members. The soldiers, with their chocolate-colored skin and cropped dark hair, would have roamed about, conversing with each other on their way to their next training block. 

Now, the clones were asleep, and the Jedi Masters stood alone in the empty hallway. Their arms tangled as they met for what felt like the first time in years, though it had only been a few months. The dimmed hallways highlighted the beautiful Togruta’s sharp features. Plo found his hand drifting to her chin.

Shaak was very grateful that he had volunteered for this assignment the Council had suggested. Plo was here to observe the clones in their training, yes, but he was also here for… well, more personal reasons. Shaak leaned in and brushed her lips against his rough cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Shaak murmured, stroking his jawline, running her fingers beneath his mask. “The clones will be thankful to see a new face.” 

Plo smiled at that. “I doubt I’d ever get tired of seeing you every day.”

“That’s… not what I meant.”

“I know.”

He kissed the top of her head, then wrapped an arm around her as they began to walk down the corridor to his guest quarters.

They didn’t get very far before Shaak sensed another presence approaching. Almost instantly, she matched the presence to Nala Se. The mysterious Kaminoan wasn’t supposed to be in this part of the facility—they were nearing the clones’ quarters, and only Shaak and the clones were really permitted there. 

Shaak doubted Se would raise questions about Koon, but of course, things were rapidly changing. Unfortunately, one could never be too careful. 

The soft echo of Se’s footsteps began to waft its way down the corridor, and Shaak quietly ducked out from under Plo’s arm. 

Plo nodded, not having to say a word to understand how she felt. 

Shaak kissed him again, relishing in his rough skin against her lips. She smiled as she parted from him. “Until tomorrow, my love.”

\---

The facility’s training arenas opened bright and early the next morning. The corridors were crowded and loud; stark contrast to the peacefulness of the night before. Plo, once he visited the fresher, took the slick silver elevator to the downstairs facility that he had been assigned to.

Fortunately, Shaak was also assigned to this location. Plo noticed this as he entered the room and saw her, and concealed a grin. How good to see a familiar face. At least he wouldn’t be the only Jedi.

Plo stood atop one of the balconies and observed the room. Everything was crisp and clean, much like the clones themselves. On the floor beneath the balcony, there was a padded floor with various obstacles. A row of glowing targets lined the wall on one side. 

Plo opened his datapad, loading the notes Windu had given him. Plo should have paid more attention to his reading; he was ashamed at how frequently his eyes drifted over the edge of his screen to focus on the Togruta.

She moved like a delicate wisp—she looked like one too, in her tranquil gray robes. Shaak’s striped montrals stood out against the white walls of the arena. She moved down a line of five clones, speaking to each of them individually, critiquing their performance in a respectful way. Somehow, she made it look like she was very focused on bringing the clones to perfection; but was also having fun while teaching them.

Plo smiled broadly as Shaak adjusted the blaster in a young clone’s hand, looking the soldier directly in the eye as she explained a better approach to hitting the moving target.  


On Shaak’s command, the clones fired, four of them hitting the target spot-on and the other barely missing. Plo nodded proudly as he jotted down a note in his datapad: 

_The clones in the morning session—specifically CT-782, CT-783, CT-660, CT-3089 and CT-4455—are gifted in their sharpshooting skills. I suspect this is due to the teachings of Master Shaak Ti, who does a splendid job of cultivating their abilities. She is an accomplished teacher._

Plo looked back to the clones who were shooting once again, quicker now. As they finished their final round, Shaak smiled, pleased. Plo took another note: 

_By the end of their sharpshooting session, all of the clones received high marks from Ti. The accuracy and efficiency of their shots is incredible._

Plo caught her eye as the group moved through the hallways to their next location. Through the Force, he perceived a bright ball of pride radiating from Shaak. He found it contagious, and briefly wondered if the other Masters were aware of how she felt. No other Jedi general felt this way around their troops, and despite Plo’s own attachments to the Wolfpack, he hadn’t thought his feelings to be this strong.

Plo was painfully aware of the consequences of attachment; yet strangely, he understood Shaak’s protectiveness and loyalty to the clones.

\---

That evening, after the last training session, Shaak appeared outside Plo’s quarters. The metal door slid open as he allowed her in.

He stopped as Shaak brushed past him. Something was off—gone was her pride from earlier in the day. It had been replaced with a load of apprehension. He recognized it instantly. 

She was frustrated.

“You’re early.” Plo said, surprised. He closed the door. “Is everything okay?”

Shaak seated herself in the smooth Kamino-issued chair that was propped against the wall. She glanced down at the floor, at her feet which were crossed at the ankles. Her eyebrows cinched. “Nala Se informed me that Chancellor Palpatine will be personally visiting the facility in a few rotations.”

“... _What?”_

“You didn’t know about this? I thought the Council would have told you.”

“No, they didn’t.” Plo began to pace. “Windu sent me to observe how the training is coming. I didn’t know it was to prepare for the Chancellor’s visit.”

He didn’t say anything more, and instead tried to make sense of the situation. The sound of the rain pattering on the metal ceiling disrupted Plo’s thoughts. Rather than becoming annoyed by the noise, he tried to focus on it, to perhaps calm his suddenly racing mind.

“Stop pacing.” Shaak stood up after a moment, and held Plo by the shoulders. “He’s likely visiting to see how far along the clone production is coming. We’ve been… behind. Recently.” 

Plo gently took her hand. “How much more are they going to ask of you?”

“I’m not sure.” Shaak bit her lip. “This war is getting worse. They need more soldiers. We have to continue production at a faster rate than normal. Palpatine will be dissatisfied if he sees the current state of the facility.”

Shaak’s Force signature shifted from anxious to… sad. Plo tried to ignore how much this impacted him. His stomach twisted.  


“It looked fine to me.” Plo slipped his hand beneath the billowing sleeve of her robe, and tenderly touched her warm skin. Shaak shuddered as he did so, but did not pull away. “I already sent my observation notes back to Windu, but you’re welcome to read what I wrote. I hope it’s all correct in the way you want it to be.”

Plo removed his hand from her arm and picked up the datapad. He opened the notes and gave the device to Shaak.

She began to study the summaries intently. Plo tried not to be too obvious as he watched her read. She was truly beautiful. The light of the datapad accented the lines of her face, the contours of her chin, the slight curve of her neck. He wanted her, he _loved_ her, and he would do whatever it took to protect her from the horrors of this war. 

_Kriff._ When did he become so… _soft_? Usually war hardened people; yet he felt it was more difficult than ever to live by the Jedi Code, to avoid becoming attached. 

“Plo.”

“Hm?” 

“The clones have names, you know.”

Plo blinked, awkwardly remembering how he had referred to the cadets by their numbers. “Yes, dear. I know.” He didn’t know any of these clones personally, however, and he felt ashamed that he hadn’t asked Shaak for their real names.

His voice was barely a whisper as he added, “But, of course… you know these cadets better than anyone. Of course you know their names by heart.”

Shaak did not turn away from his placid smile. “They are more than just numbers.” She murmured. “I treat them like people, because they are people.”

“You’re attached.”

“You would be too, Plo, if you worked with them all the time. I’ve seen their successes and failures. I’ve seen their personalities form.” Shaak’s voice rose in intensity, until it began to shake. “They’re all so special… and then I have to send them off to get _shot_ at.” Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t go on.

Plo reached out and embraced her. She had never been so open with him about this. Plo couldn’t imagine training and practically raising the clones, but then having to say goodbye to them. 

“I don’t understand why their lives have become an ethical debate.” Shaak continued, softly now. “They mean more to me than anything.”

“I understand.” Plo kissed the top of her smooth head. “You have been an excellent teacher to them.”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him.

They held each other for a long moment. His hand found the familiar spot on her back.

Confident now, Shaak slowly turned Plo so he was against the wall. Shaak’s blue eyes gazed into his dark ones lovingly.

“It’s been far too long since we’ve done this.” Shaak whispered. 

“I agree.” 

They met with eager passion, and Shaak realized how much of a hypocrite Plo Koon was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this! Kudos or comments are always appreciated. <33


	4. Floating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satine/Obi-Wan; The Force floats through all living beings. Obi-Wan finds that "floating" is a good way to describe how he's feeling towards a certain Duchess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man... I love this pairing. Obitine is what initially got me into TCW. Of course I love all aspects of the series, but Obitine will always have a special place in my heart. <33
> 
> I was super busy this week, my apologies for such a short upload. I threw some angst in, because us Obitines love some angst... and it's the thing that came most naturally to me.
> 
> I can promise one thing: there will be a lot of Obitine content (hopefully longer than this) in the coming weeks! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Satine moved toward Obi-Wan in one motion, floating toward him as if she were an angel.

They hadn’t been that far apart to begin with—they rarely were these days. Satine had been sitting across from him, warming her hands by the fire. Through the auburn light of the fire, Obi-Wan thought she looked beautiful. Well—she looked beautiful _all the time,_ but—

As she stopped in front of him, Satine’s hand came to rest on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Her thumb began to stroke his jawline. Obi-Wan swallowed. The Duchess’s hand felt cold against his warm face. They had kissed once before, a few days ago, and it had built up exactly like this. 

But that had only been a chaste smooch. And Obi-Wan found himself wanting more.

Obi-Wan could feel his heart thud against his chest, in both anticipation and nervousness, as Satine closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss him. 

When they met, her soft lips touched his so passionately and gently at the same time. He was so lost in his sea of feelings and desire and he almost forgot that he was supposed to kiss her back. 

Obi-Wan’s hand, shaking a bit, moved up to rest on the back of Satine’s head. He gently tilted her head to get a better angle. 

The young Jedi tried to ignore the soft sigh that escaped from Satine’s mouth, yet he found himself unable to suppress the feeling that his stomach was about to float away. He felt a warmth rushing downward, a strange warmth… 

He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi Padawan, and he was not supposed to feel love. _There is no emotion, there is peace._ Love was an emotion, right?

Really, in every way, this was utterly wrong. Had Qui-Gon not been off hunting, Obi-Wan wouldn’t be doing this. He pulled away from the Duchess awkwardly.

“We—” Obi-Wan began, but the words caught in his throat when he noticed Satine: head lowered, blond tendrils of hair falling in front of the woman’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong with _you?”_ Satine shot back, voice suddenly harsh. “I feel horrible for intruding. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Obi-Wan said. He ran a finger under his lips. Briefly remembering how Satine’s had touched his. 

Shaking his head, he stepped away from her. She crossed her arms and muttered something under her breath.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Satine, it’s not that I don’t want to do this, it’s just…”

“We can’t. I know.”

Satine, shaking her head and muttering something again, walked off to the shore of the river. 

“Don’t go far, Duchess.” Obi-Wan mumbled, but she likely couldn’t hear him. 

Kark, why was he such an _idiot?_ When he’d been assigned to this mission by the Council all those weeks—months?—ago, he’d thought this would be easy. He had felt so cool and collected… and now… well, he was falling apart. The virtues and values of the Jedi were floating away from him, perhaps in this very moment as his thoughts ran away with him. Obi-Wan anxiously glanced over to the river shore where Satine stood. 

“Padawan.” 

Obi-Wan jumped as he turned to face Master Qui-Gon, who emerged from the green forest. 

Kriff. Qui-Gon was back already! No doubt he could sense Obi-Wan’s conflict. Obi-Wan tried to block Qui-Gon’s prying Force presence, yet he wasn't quick enough, and could feel the Master weaving his way into his mind. 

“What happened, Padawan? Where is the Duchess?” Qui-Gon asked in that calm voice of his. The prying got worse. Obi-Wan knew Master Qui-Gon never meddled on purpose, but the Jedi Master wanted to be informed of everything, and this was often achieved through reading too far into the Padawan’s mind. Sometimes this helped Obi-Wan express his feelings without actually having to _express_ them, but in times like this, it was very uncomfortable.

“She’s down by the river.” Obi-Wan glanced away from Qui-Gon. 

As Qui-Gon walked to where Satine was standing, Obi-Wan was left alone with his thoughts, his confusing anxieties surrounding the Duchess, and the feeling that his head was about to float away. 

_Floating_

He had to do something about this.

Obi-Wan shook his head, jolting himself out of his thoughts; and then trotted off to the edge of the forest to meditate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this! Kudos or comments are always appreciated. <33


	5. Roses Fall, but the Thorn Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn/Poe, with some one-sided Rose/Finn. TW for panic attacks and trauma. Taking place after TLJ, Rose is dealing with her confusing feelings for Finn and the loss of her sister. Finn is worried about his friendship with Rose. And Poe is there for both of them through it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I wrote this. Rose needs a hug.

“And… oh, if you had _heard it_ , Rose—” Finn’s eyes were alight as he spoke. “We were all crowded in the back room of the transport and he was in the middle of the group and all of a sudden he just started _singing._ It was… beautiful.”

Rose Tico shook her head with fond amusement as Finn beamed from ear to ear. “I can practically see the hearts coming out of your eyes.” Rose smirked and looked up at her friend. Despite his dark skin, Rose could tell Finn’s cheeks had reddened at her comment. She let out a kindhearted chuckle. 

Finn was hopelessly in love with Poe Dameron.

Rose put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him off down the hall. “Go talk to him, you laserbrain. According to Leia’s reports, he just got back from a flight.” 

Finn nodded, and they shared a look Rose knew meant _thank you._ The friends turned the corner to the pilots’ bay. 

Listening to Finn gush about Poe hadn’t been something Rose enjoyed, but that was merely due to her lingering feelings for Finn. But she kept quiet; because as far as Finn knew, she was over him. And seeing Finn happy was something she would sacrifice anything for. 

Things hadn’t worked out between Finn and Rose—and although it saddened her, Rose respected him for it. She was thankful they had remained such close friends. And if they hadn’t, she still would’ve held much respect for the ex-stormtrooper.

She knew there was no way to change his feelings. She was happy for Finn and Poe. Really, truly, she was. 

But there were times she wished Finn was gushing about her instead of about Poe. 

Kriff. That was selfish. Paige would’ve hated her for thinking something like that.

 _Paige._ Stars, how Rose wished her sister were here. If Paige were here, she would’ve let Rose talk about her jumble of feelings. Paige probably would have nodded, then given some anecdote about her own love struggles. Paige was always a good listener. 

Suddenly Rose was back on the bottom level of the _Raddus,_ during the battle, hearing the bombs explode overhead. Her sister— _Paige_ —had gone down with the bombing frigate. Rose could hear it so clearly, she could hear the orders being shouted, she could hear the pounding of footsteps overhead as soldiers ran to their positions. 

_No. Stop. You’re doing it again. Don’t go back there. Stay here_

_Finn is here._

_Focus on Finn_

_Paige..._ The ship had shuttered into hyperspace, and she remembered grasping the wall for stability but being unable to feel the cold metal beneath her hand. Rose had looked down at her tattered brown boots, trying to focus on them, but the only thing she could focus on was the rushing of air in her lungs. 

She was alone down there, she was so scared, and Paige— _Paige_ —was gone—she couldn’t help Rose this time—

_Paige_

“Rose.” 

_Paige!_

_Listen to me_

_I need you_

“Rose.” 

Rose felt a hand on her back, guiding her somewhere. 

_Paige_

The fog of the flashback began to clear. She blinked. Her eyes stung with tears. Something was against her back—the wall. 

“You’re all right.”

Poe Dameron’s brown eyes were wide, his brow knitted together in concern. Rose shook her head.

“I’m all right.” Rose murmured.

She was losing it. 

Finn approached Poe and stood next to him. They kept their distance from her, for which Rose was grateful. If they’d been any closer she feared she’d go back to that horrible place—the crowded pipes. The noise. The bombs—

“Rose.” Now it was Finn who spoke. Both men looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

Rose blinked, hard. “Sorry. I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Finn said gently. “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be? Did I make it worse?”

“No.” Rose said, shocked he would even think that. She took Finn’s hand. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything. I’m going back to my quarters.” She offered the couple a gentle smile. “Have fun, you two.”

She didn’t even look back to see Finn’s face. His beautiful, stupid face that she saw every night in her dreams and nightmares and—

Walking back to her quarters, alone, she felt her shoulders heave. Hot tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her feet were weights as she trudged down the corridor and into the girls’ wing. 

Once inside the sanctuary of her room, Rose promptly threw herself on the bed and wept. She didn’t know any sentient being could shed this many tears, but she did. She sobbed.

Sobbed for Paige, for the losses of her crew. For Finn and what could have been. 

And for the loss of her happiness… she sobbed.

\---

Finn and Poe were hand-in-hand by the time they got to Poe’s room. Although it went unsaid, both men were still thinking about Rose’s panic attack. They were happening more often lately, and getting worse each time.

Poe had mentioned it to Finn once, but Finn wasn’t sure what to say. Rose hadn’t been very open about her sister’s death and the trauma it had caused her. 

Finn wanted to be a good friend to her, as she needed him now more than ever… but sometimes it seemed like he was no help at all. 

“Hey,” Poe ran his thumb down the side of Finn’s hand, jolting Finn back into the moment. “Still thinking about Rose?”

“Yeah.”

Poe scanned into his quarters. The door opened swiftly and Poe led Finn inside. “I’m sorry.” Poe examined his lover’s face, which was downcast and very unlike his typical smile. Poe ran his hand over Finn’s coarse dark hair.

To Poe, one of the things that made Finn so attractive was his compassion for others. Watching him put his life on the line for Rose had been extremely powerful. Finn had continued to care for her in a warm way, always offering help when she needed it. 

Which was why Poe was so surprised by Finn’s next statement.

“It feels like I… I can’t help her.” Finn’s words were slow at first. Cautious. 

And then… it was like a dam burst, and Finn’s words came flooding out. “She’s struggling and I just don’t know what to say, because she doesn’t tell me. But of course, I understand why she’s so silent about it because obviously… obviously she doesn’t want to talk about her dead sister because who would want to talk about their dead sister?” Finn squeezed his eyes shut and seated himself on Poe’s bed. “I want to be there for her, I really do. I just… don’t know how.”

Poe followed Finn onto the bed and leaned against him. “I think you’re doing great.” Poe began, just as slowly and cautiously as Finn had. “Rose is experiencing a lot right now. But you, being someone who is constantly there for her, is important.” 

Poe reached for Finn’s hand again and tenderly traced his palm—an action that always emitted a small spark of joy from both men. Finn tried to hold back a smile, but eventually cracked, causing Poe to snicker lovingly.

“See? This is who you are.” Poe said, nudging Finn. “You’re a loving, caring person who Rose needs. Who I need. Who this Resistance needs. And you are doing great.”

Finn sat still, letting that information sink in. Agonizing silence ensued. A small part of Poe thought he had said something wrong… but no, he meant what he said. 

Without another word, Finn leaned in and kissed Poe, gentle lips brushing over his, a hand coming up to drag through Poe’s chestnut locks. Poe could smell Finn’s light sheen of sweat, his subtle cologne, everything that made him remarkably _Finn._

When the men pulled away from each other, Finn cupped Poe’s cheek and smiled. Not out of joy—not yet—but out of thanks. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this! Kudos or comments are always appreciated. <33


	6. Devil's Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bo-Katan Kryze/Pre Vizsla. Pre Vizsla is enchanted by the young Bo-Katan Kryze. During some much-needed alone time, he ponders his attraction to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This pairing is almost as rare as my will to write. So you're getting a rarepair drabble-y thing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Pre watches the young redhead like a hawk. 

Bo-Katan Kryze walks alone down the dark path of the camp, helmet in hand. Pre can see her from his spot in the lookout. She cannot see him. 

He’s done this before—countless times, actually—but this is so different. Pre feels _vulnerable_ now. Him and Bo are the only people awake, at least in this general proximity. Pre sinks behind the windowsill, perching his head just right so he can still see her, but he is no longer in open view.

Pre keeps a close eye on her as she walks. Bo-Katan is slender, though her silver-plated armor gives her an extra bulk. Pre watches the slight bob of her head, the curve of her back, the gentle sway of her hips. 

He’s lost track of how long he’s been entranced by her; he’d say it started when they were barely teens and he witnessed her fight for the first time. The youngest Kryze girl’s spark was undeniably attractive. 

Although Pre remained attracted to Bo-Katan, his family had suggested he court a girl his own age. Pre had tried his hand with Bo-Katan’s older sister, Satine, but Satine had been too uptight. _On the other hand_ , Pre thought, recalling memories of an earlier time, _Satine was a decent kisser._ Perhaps the blonde girl would’ve been good in bed. All that stubbornness had to count for something.

But the wars had separated Pre from that family altogether, and Satine turned into some pacifist wimp, and he thought he’d never see any of the Kryze girls ever again.

Until the redhead showed up two days ago, tears streaking her face, begging to be part of Death Watch.

Bo-Katan disappears around the corner, and Pre leans back against the wall with a sigh. Bo-Katan is remarkable—independent, spunky, powerful. Everything he is.

He sees her then. 

Not out the window of the lookout, but vividly in his mind. He sees Bo’s amber eyes as he pulls her against him, feeling the girl’s soft curves press flush against him. He feels Bo shudder as he takes her lips in his. She smirks and her hands frame his face. She begins kissing him back with matched passion. 

He hears her sigh his name, _“Pre.”_ He can nearly taste her skin as he imagines kissing her everywhere.

Pre jolts himself from his fantasy. Lucky for him, he’s alone in the lookout. Had the higher-ups been here, they would’ve been distraught to see a young adult lusting for a girl years younger than him.

Pre keeps his fantasy to himself, stored in the back of his mind, for those cold nights alone when he wishes Bo was next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this! Kudos or comments are always appreciated. <33


End file.
